A life story
by bye bye sora
Summary: After the cold war two veterans meet and fall in love. Ivan was forced to move to the U.S.A and becomes a florist. The mechanic Alfred lives near and they fall in love but something will tear them apart. Amerus. Last story on this site and a Repost. Edited. RatedT for violence and sexy ensues. From now on I won't post here. Sorry the delay.


Pair: Russia/America | Rated: T for some sexual content | Style: AU, Drama.

Summary: After the cold war two veterans meet and fall in love. Ivan was forced to move to the U.S.A and becomes a florist. The mechanic Alfred lives near and they fall in love but something will tear them apart.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or the Vietnam War. It's merely fictional and based in real events.

I don't make any profit with this story.

Published on august 2012, now self edited. Notes on the end of story.  
_

A life story.

This is not a story of a great interesting and adventurous life. Altered wished it was but it isn't and he couldn't want a better one.  
Yet, the letter was on his hands, the words far away and yet so close.  
He yearns to go but... He doesn't know if he can.

Alfred life was an interesting one, at least on his modest opinion.  
He was born on the United States of America, the best country on the world and raised with the most caring and wonderful brother. Matthew.  
Mathew always supported him on his most difficult times and never bothered him on the good ones. He's a nice fellow to have around.  
Their father was a war soldier who died on the Second World War and became Alfred's inspiration and the reason he was so patriotic. He had brown eyes and gorgeous blonde hair, Alfred inherited his sunny blonde hair.  
Their mother was a sweet domestic woman who started working and gave a wonderful life to his son's;  
Alfred inherited her beautiful fierce blue eyes and passion.  
He is proud of his humble heritage and lives humbly trying to make them proud even in the afterlife.  
But that's the past. Alfred doesn't like to dwell on it for long.  
Alfred truly believes that his life really began at the tender age of 19 years when he was called to the Cold War trenches.  
With the enthusiasm of a boy who knew little about life he faced 3 years of fighting with the soviets. He accepted it with pride devotion and patriotism. He was a war Hero as his father.  
Three years later, tiring days, weeks and months he was called back home. The war was over and he never got the chance to fight directly as his father, he still knew little about the war. He was a fake Hero and his pride suffered with that fate. So he designed himself unworthy of the title and longs to fight for his country.

After the war he came to America, he was rewarded as a War Hero, even being only 21 years old, and restarted a Life in the city of Lights.  
Soon he travelled through America and after many woman, affairs and turns of life he settled down in a small Village. He still loved lively things. To laugh, people and life so he searched for a work that fulfilled his need for contact with people and action.  
There he became a mechanic, old knowledge from the War was useful to his new job, and started working for two German brothers. Even facing a few stereotypes they are trusted and good people so Alfred got along with them with ease.  
Ludwig was a tall stoic blond and the main mechanic. Gilbert, -one albino that liked to point that he was 'Prussian' due the fact that his father took him to the east Berlin to live instead of staying in the west with his brother and mother. Was the annoying brother that helped Ludwig. Together they owned the mechanic and were the only mechanics of the Village but Gilbert said they were the best of the country either way.  
He is mostly friend with Gilbert who drinks and his friend for most times.  
He enjoys his work, has the luck of hear their life stories and even help them while does something feels good to him, rewarding. Fulfilling and peaceful, even if a bit dull, but he enjoys it.

Most days he speaks through Skype with his brother Matthew, who is now living on Canada living with a Cuban girl who he hates with devotion, but makes his brother happier than ever.  
Then, right after bid goodbye to his brother loneliness always preyed on his empty house and he felt that something important was missing.

Alfred longed for the feeling of being in love. To feel, touch, hold and desperate caring for another person. To feel loved, important to someone... Needed.  
A lover. Not just a lover, the lover, the one a romantic at heart as he wishes to find someday.  
Four years later he finds it on the most unbelievable place.  
And his life begins again. This time, even better.

It's a beautiful cloudy Autumn day, the sun peeks through the clouds but sadness is on his heart.  
A beloved old lady neighbour passed away So he decided to be polite and place a flower on her grave to pay her respects.  
The florist is two blocks away from his house but he never took a look at it since he never cared for flowers.  
Now he regrets not having gone to that store sooner.

When he enters the Flower scented florist he becomes amazed at the amount of flowers.

The tiny florist has lilies, roses, sunflowers majority displayed but he can see the others all around.

When he enters on the tiny florist he is met with beautiful flowers; lilies, roses and sunflowers were the major ones. They are all well cared for while filling the shop in yellow on the left side, white and green on the middle and red on the left.

He was so absorbed in watching the flowers that only after a few seconds later he realises there was a huge tall man touching the dirt of a vase while watching him.

Alfred walks inside raising his chin in self authority and the man looked back regards him with curiosity and slight intimidating look.

'What do you need, sir?'' He asks Alfred who frowns at the slight roll of words and obviously Russian accent.

The voice is manly, while soft and childish, but the paranoid feeling from the old days plagues him and he becomes weary, suspicious and tries to make himself bigger pushing his chest to the front while keeping his shoulders straight and tense.

He simply asks for white lilies because he knows the old lady enjoys them. She told him once on one of their many conversations.

He leaves the store but can't shake the feeling that the man is planing or conspiring against his beloved country so he starts watching the man as if he is on a mission.

Is not that long before the man realises he is being watched and recognises the routine stepping out of his shop to face Alfred.

For the first time since he layer his eyes on the man he sees the man doing something else than smile politely or having a peaceful expression on his face. He's frowning.

Not just a hard line of eyebrows but clenched teeth making the roundish face turn sharper. His light hair shine in the sunset light and tall frame tense as heavy steps lead him towards Alfred who never backs down. He looks up and clenches his fists ready for a fight but the other stops in front of him and says in a tired but demanding tone.

''What do you want from me?''

Alfred blinks and frowns.

''You know what I am doing. I am protecting my country from evil Russians like you.'' He says with determination after a few heavy seconds.

''I am not a Soviet and I merely wish to build a life in America Mister. '' Ivan said with narrowed eyes.

Alfred looks him up and down and mulls a quick plan in his head. Keep your enemies close Al; Then he presents his right hand while he locks his blue eyes on the other man's almost purple eyes.

''I'm Jones, Alfred Jones red! And I am sure of it…''

The man sighs but kept his ground.

''Mister Jones, I do not enjoy that you are constantly here just to mock me. I am a working man and I am sure you have, with all the respect, better things to do.'' He said with a tired tone that suggests that he says it daily.

Alfred frowned a little hurt, lately being suspicious of the Russian was the only thing he did after working.

Hey don't judge, he learned about them! They are tough bones! And his life is pretty boring… damn.

''What if I don't trust you, commie?'' He asks intrigued about what the other would do.

''Your problem, not mine. I have my mind clean and only wish to keep my work and life.'' The tall Russian shrugs his broad shoulders and Alfred smirks sensing a challenge.

''Prove to me that you are not a red commie.'' Alfred challenged back as the Russian raises a pale brow at that.

''I am Ivan Braginsky, an American citizen, I do not need to prove myself.'' He murmured and turned to putt water on the red living roses. Alfred wondered for a moment if the Russian took such good care about the other flowers too.

''That's not enough.'' Alfred smirks raising his chin as sure of his affirmation. and Ivan shrugs again walking to the sunflowers with a small smile.

''Come tomorrow and prove that you deserve to know more.'' He challenges back and Alfred grins a bit taken aback with that but thrilled.

''Sure thing commie.'' Aired says with a hint of excitement and Ivan sighs as he moved to take care of the sunflowers.

Gently the gloved big hands started caressing the petals and Alfred just sees how carefully his hands move. Yes, Ivan is even more careful with them and he walks away motivated for having a new mission.

Alfred starts going to the little store every day after that day. His suspicion never leaving but the fondness for the forest growing.

With time Ivan started talking to him with more ease. With that he learnt the Russian is fun to be around. He has a dark sense humour, a childish curiosity and loves the space, history and fun facts. It took three months for Alfred to know these things but Alfred always was a persistent man and loves a good challenge. Plus, after that rocky start Alfred decided to befriend Ivan even if that felt confusing.

He never worries too much about that though.

They get along just fine when they don't discuss ideologies or any political subject. Besides they bond in small things.

They are both Cold War veterans. Alfred is now 26 years old, 3 years of service and Ivan 29 years old with 5 years of service. They are both single men on the small village and even live 2 blocks away from each other which is something they never imagined.

Alfred misses dearly his own brother and Ivan misses his two sisters. A big one, who he says that is the most caring sweet girl he ever met and a little one who he refuses to talk much but says who is breathtaking. Ivan came to America because he felt disappointed with the country he lived and the harsh life that made him walk away and seek somewhere else to build life. Many people did the same and his sisters ran to Europe separating their lives. Alfred sees the sadness on the other eyes and finally releases the last of his paranoid and suspicious feelings.

Ivan is his friend.

They create a soft friendship with each other with time. Ivan is respectful and sweet under the huge intimidating look and Alfred is optimistic and loud creating a good air around them. They were both a bit lonely before meeting and soon became greatly attached.

Alfred still doesn't know what that means though.

Alfred has few friends, including his working friends. Ludwig, Gilbert and Feliciano, a restaurant owner that enjoys appearing many times on his work hours to talk about big expensive Italian cars. He never gave much thought on that though, he enjoys his company. And when they all join is always a blast with lot's of drinking and laugh.

Ivan is a different friend. He is a friend for all the other times even the ones he will never admit out loud.

After one year and half after the little incident on the florist Alfred realises how cute the Russian looks when the spring comes and the flowers blossom.

His smile is more open and genuine, it lights all Ivan's face and shines on his pale eyes. His hair reflects the light of the sun and he always picks flowers to place on his florist or house. Alfred knows this due the fact that they are always meeting on each other houses.

A flustered feeling becomes nauseating. His stomach turns and he laughs in nervousness watching Ivan bringing popcorns to their weekly movie marathon and he comes to a terrific conclusion.

He fell in love.

Not only for an ex-enemy but also for a man. His male friend that remains oblivious and calls him to watch movies or walk on the park at the end of the busy days making him even more ashamed.

He was raised by catholic parents. He always thought he would find a lovely woman, like his mother, create a family. But when he realises, he is staring bashfully to an exited talking Russian and worrying his lower lip.  
He really likes Ivan. More than friendship. He loves that man more than himself, loves his wrincles when he laughs and his eyes almost close, his big nose. He loves his thin chopped lips, his sweet voice and strong body.  
He loves how he fights stubbornly with him when they argue, he never backs down or ignores him. He loves how he joins his silly plays.  
He wants to see him grow old, he wants to be there always.  
He wants to kiss him, to hold him, to feel his skin...  
Alfred feels content and peaceful with him, he feels happy when they are together. It's different from all the friendships he had. It's better.  
And yet, it hurts.

Alfred looks at his side and smiles, the cold making him shiver but Ivan is peacefully watching the kids play on the park. Ivan is used to the cold air of winter and woul press himself closer to diminish the cold, he already did that saying that the cold is better fought with human warmth. But he can't. He feels nauseated for wanting to hold him, to be close.  
He feels so peaceful when they are together. So understood and needed. Ivan's there when he feels down.  
Ivan's always there when he feels philological, feels idiotic, feels happy. Ivan makes him feel so special that he feels the ordinary need to have him closer, to touch, to feel, to see in ecstasy.

He will leave if he ever knows. Alfred can't allow that to happen. He needs him close, he is his best friend, he understands him. Ivan is the only one who makes him blush, makes him laugh truthfully, the only one that he wants to feel. Feel his skin, his lips, his hair, his chest...  
He can't so he makes up an excuse and walks away quickly.  
He thought he loved girls, only girls. He never realised he wanted to feel a man as much as he wants to feel him.  
When he gets home he cries.  
Alfred cries because he's ashamed, guilty and scared. He never felt scared and now he feels.  
He always felt pride, now he feels that he failed his beloved devoted parents, he failed God's wish of procreation. He feels guilty for being so selfish that he can't stand the thought of being so incomplete as he was before he met Ivan.

He cries harder, he realises now that he never loved the way he loves now. Deep and with all love there is. He never felt that way before and it hurts him.  
It hurts him to know there's no way the guy that checks out girls and blushes talking about private aspects with him, will never love him as he loves and wants him.  
With that in mind he starts to detach himself. He can't hurt himself with the devastation of such rejection or loss.  
He can't...

In a few days Ivan notices the detachment of his friend and blames it on the tiredness of long days in work and longing for his brother.  
He understands it. He feels that way too so he tries to focus on his books and knitting to give Alfred space. He will come around and be with him soon.  
But that doesn't happen and Ivan is not a fool, he can clearly see the non subtle change on Alfred and it leaves him uneasy and sad.  
He doesn't want Alfred to leave him, he is his best friend, his only person. Perhaps he needs the American a bit more that he should, yes?  
He waits a bit longer, almost two months and Alfred is still distant. It almost drives him crazy so he decides to make him a surprise with roses, the ones Alfred likes to look at even denying to like girly things, to cheer him up. And ask for forgiveness for something he is not sure of since the American is easily offended like that.  
He just wants to see his smile again.  
Bright as sun, eyes beautiful as the sky and glasses askew as always. Alfred who lighted his life and brought his friendship and happiness to his own life. Alfred who makes the days seem short, the chest hurt and heart beat faster.  
Alfred who makes him feel all wrong things and right ones at once. Alfred who was oblivious of his struggle to refrain to touch him. To be with him.

Those were two long painful months for both but they were still going out every Friday and Sunday. Those were the best days of their whole week.

Alfred opened the door with a baggy shirt and shorts. Sweaty and out of breath, clearly in the middle of work out inside home. He tends to do that when stressed.  
Alfred's blue eyes hidden behind glasses and colour cheeks warm tinting a rose tone.  
Ivan's heart beats frantic and he looks away telling him to feel better soon and Alfred swallows.

'So wrong. So right. So sweet and caring... So Ivan...'  
Alfred feels guilty from making him worry but can't tell a word, ashamed, giddy and slightly nervous. His mind fill in with judgemental questions because he is always vulnerable when people talk. 'What if someone saw and took it wrongly?', 'Why does he want that gesture to mean more?' 'What if someone sees and comments on it?'  
'What if...?'  
Alfred wants to crawl into a hole and bury himself there, away from the world. Hidden from critics and away from prying eyes.  
And he wants to take Ivan with him, snuggle forever on their tiny hole, away from everything. Yes. Ivan must go with him...  
On that moment he realises that he accepts. He loves Ivan.

So he falls into the pit of the dragon's belly and warm he waits for salvation, even if salvation is jot what he needs or wants.

Alfred grabs the roses softly, afraid of ruining the moment with his loud voice and big mouth, while inviting Ivan inside.  
From there he grows even closer with Ivan and their routines become one again.  
Together.

Two months later, in the middle of the tiny bar he usually goes with his friends but not Ivan because Ivan dislikes the 'soft' drinks Americans drink, Gilbert drinks too much and confides Alfred that his brother and the little Italian guy who spent half of his time on the workshop, were living together. Alfred listens silently, stomach turning unpleasantly in protest and stress on how Gilbert complains about being left alone and how wrong it is that they are involved intimately all this time.  
Alfred kept drinking his beer trying to not show discomfort as sweat started to run through his hairline. Gilbert shows him the little cross he wears on his neck every single day as Alfred places down the beer glass he is holding and looks at the exit wanting to run away. He swallows and pats Gilbert shoulders sympathetically telling him that it's a misunderstanding and his brother will come back to him.  
Gilbert appreciates then chugs down another beer and Alfred spends the rest of the evening looking at the table wishing that his feelings were the misunderstanding there. He was proud of his friends and dreadful of Gilbert's nosy curiosity and judgement so he didn't says another word until is time to go home.  
That night is hell with lots of belly pains and in the morning he purges all his stomach content's.  
He's not sure if it was the beer or the conversation theme but can't really shake the tears from his eyes and the dread from his mind and he purges again trying miserably to stop the sobs.  
Most days Ivan comes to his house with breakfas, since Alfred forgets to eat sometimes and Ivan always remembers, always knows when he needs it. Alfred almost forgets that fact until the bell rings.  
He tries to clean his face with cold water but he ends splashing water everywhere. He looks to his side hearing steps and swallows. Ivan has a key. Alfred almost wants to laugh at his own stupidity but Ivan is on his side and looking him over, touching his forehead and asking if Alfred needs to go to the hospital. Alfred feels himself drowning in shame and asks Ivan to go away but the man only grabs a towel and starts cleaning the mess around him while demanding to know where the cleaning supplies are.

Alfred looks at Ivan miserably but deep down feelings of gratitude mixed with a sad feeling of longing grow and he purges again, tears filling his eyes with the effort and the almost happy feeling of having Ivan caring for him as much as he cares for him.

That night Ivan leaves after making sure he is better and able to be alone and Alfred wonders if Ivan will leave when he finds out Alfred secret. He prays that Ivan remains oblivious to his feelings until he gets the impossible courage to tell him how he feels.

After that months pass in a blink and with surprising ease.  
They seem boring sometimes, other times filled with sadness, others with joy. Sometimes we wonder if the day takes long to pass others we wish for more time. And when he see, months pass quickly and life was no different to Alfred.

On a winter Thursday Alfred burns a hand while welding a car piece.  
It was nothing big but Ludwig made sure he went to the hospital to cure the burning reddish flesh of his hand.  
But Gilbert, being the loud mouth he is, made the rumour that Alfred was on the hospital in critical state. In a few minutes almost all town knows of the situation, one of the bad sides of living in a small place.  
When the news came to Ivan ears, a tragedy about his friend Alfred, he left the florist, barely closing it, and ran to the hospital.

The encounter was awkward. Ivan ran through the corridors, ignoring the nurses that tried to stop him, and went to the room where Alfred was filling a paper that guaranteed that he had a few days off work to not expose the burn to warmth.  
Ivan entered on the room so suddenly that Alfred started to laugh as Ivan bashfully apologised to the doctor who left telling them that Alfred could go away.  
When Ivan was flushed enough and pouting,mad with himself for looking like a fool, Alfred stopped to laugh. He snickered just a bit, and placed his good hand on Ivan's face making him stop looking at his bandaged hand.  
Ivan looked up silently meeting his blue eyes and Alfred was aware of how his flesh was warm, how his chest was moving quickly making Alfred shiver in a nervous fear that only nervous love can bring.

Alfred broke the moment taking his hand quickly from Ivan's face but Ivan held it softly, with a bit of pressure and sweat that Alfred could swear was not aware and Alfred looked away in shame, laughing nervously as Ivan dragged him out of that place.  
Soon Ivan took Alfred home, black night and half moon shining between clouds, Alfred tells Ivan about how he is thinking about moving to another town. Ivan stands tense in front of him searching the truth with pain and confusion on his eyes.  
Alfred felt the sudden need to justify himself and starts talking quickly about how it will be fun and the best for himself but Ivan asks him a single heart breaking word.  
"Why?"  
Alfred couldn't lie to the heartbroken face of the Russian and admits softly that he feels something for him. A intense admiration and respect with the need, that no man should feel for another, of being always with him.  
Ivan simply gazes him with confusion as Alfred looks down uncomfortably and ashamed.  
Long moments, perhaps just a few seconds but so much longer on Alfred's mind, of thinking information and Alfred opens his mouth to speak. But Ivan cuts him off with a gesture of his hand which raised open in front of his face.  
Alfred's stomach belly twisted while Ivan walked to him slowly. Alfred's heart raced and hands shook as his breathing stopped and Ivan bent his face to his and touched his forehead to his.  
The next thing Alfred is aware is the reticent and shy low voice of Ivan and a quick touch of his lips to his own.  
He doesn't know what Ivan told him but he just pressed his lips again against Ivan's quickly and trembling.  
It was their first kiss. Quick, sloppy, shaky and Alfred glasses hit Ivan cheeks twice but it was the most relieving and intense kiss they ever had.  
After that they started dating slowly and gradually.

Both were strangers to the feelings they built and soon both realised they liked the slow knowing pace. It was a bit awkward.  
Baby steps they called it.  
Firstly simple shy and secret kisses, then hands exploring, chests touching and heavy kisses. They knew exactly what to expect after each baby step and relished on that feeling. That didn't diminished the passion and intensity of their feelings towards one another one bit.  
Many fears and maturities developed and surpassed together. Fights When chaste touches and nights came to passionate displays of intimacy and passion.  
Sometimes they were gently while exploring each other but other a fight for control. Both strong, manly and with a great sense of male superiority but loving, always loving with each other.  
Alfred was not gentle but was enthusiast and Ivan was surprisingly adoring and gentle, completing each other in satisfying moments of pleasure.  
A few months later Alfred convinced Ivan to try anal sex. Nervously they looked on the internet a healthy and pleasurable way of doing more while keeping their masculinity intact.  
None would place himself on that compromising place so they switched and took it slow wanting to find their own time.  
Ivan was slow, careful and treated him as he was something precious. Penetration was painful and tried several times before they worked it up to finally do it. It was indeed painful but fulfilling in some strange way. Alfred couldn't wish for nothing more when they finished and relished the feeling of each other arms, feeling Ivan even deeper on his heart and body. When things inverted Alfred was too eager and overwhelmed being quicker and rougher letting Ivan a bit sorer.  
Alfred didn't mind at all the payback for that.

In 2001 Alfred was 31 years old and Ivan 34. They were dating for four years and living together by three. Their friends and living family knew and accepted it after many difficulties and taboos.  
Their their passion was still young and renewed every day even fighting and arguing heavily.  
Yes, right now Alfred felt complete. He had a nice job albeit a bit boring, enough money and shared a house with the love of his life.  
His life was indeed good but all good things come to an end and Alfred learned it soon enough.

It was a working Monday when a little letter came to their mail box. Alfred grabbed it with not much care thinking it was some bill, always bills, but when he saw the envelope with military symbol he opened it with curiosity.  
It was a call for the Afghanistan war that reached a decisive level and the U.S was making a tactical attack with the great soldiers that were still registered. Alfred, registered as single, was one of the first ones called to the front.  
His mind ran with possibilities of adventure, greatness, proving himself to his country, family and even himself. But then, what about Ivan?  
He sat on the couch waiting for Ivan to come home. The daylight slowly vanishing outside and lights out inside.  
He wanted to go but… and Ivan? What would he think…?

After 40 minutes of deep mental arguing Alfred heard Ivan entering on their house.  
The door clicked shut and light invaded Alfred's vision as Ivan placed a bag of groceries on the kitchen then walked to him.  
He stopped in front of him but when Alfred simply looked up Ivan kissed his cheek.  
'What's wrong?' Ivan asked looking at Alfred's distant blue eyes.  
He noticed the letter on his hand and took it reading it with an impassive and unreadable look on his eyes.  
Finally he looked up and Alfred spoke softly.  
''I was called to fight…'' the sentence hung heavily on the air making the situation perhaps more dramatical than what Alfred wished. Ivan placed the card on his lap.  
Ivan knows that Alfred is patriotic and wishes to fight and avenge his father while fighting for his country. Ivan also knows that inside him is a feeling of boredom brought by the domesticity of daily routine and longing for adventure.  
Alfred knows that Ivan knows his wishes but Alfred doesn't know what Ivan is thinking when he looks at him with those impassive amethyst eyes.  
When Ivan speaks to him his voice is emotionless.  
''You wish to go.'' Ivan states and Alfred closes his eyes nodding not wanting to reveal that he doesn't know what to do.  
.Yes but… and Ivan?.  
When Alfred opens his eyes Ivan is gone from his side and the door is clicking shut Alfred knows he does that when he's mad, hurt or needs to think. Still, the sound of that door closing is louder and heavier than ever.

When Ivan returns, Alfred had dinner alone and was lying on the bed wondering if Ivan left him, the clock showed 2 o'clock and Ivan entered on their room. Alfred didn't try to hide that he was awake and listened As Ivan took his clothes, stepped inside their bed and kissed his ear closing his arms around Alfred.  
Alfred swallowed listening his heartbeat louder and faster then soft breaths and words, spoken as a secret to be held among them.  
''You can go, I understand.''  
Alfred almost teared up.  
.

The next weeks were weird for both. Alfred was anxious and a bit hesitant about leaving their cat and Ivan alone. Letting Ivan alone is his major concern because he is more fragile than he would appear. He may look slightly intimidating but is really sweet inside and Alfred knows he will suffer with the distance. He will also suffer with it, Ivan became his life but it will be quick and soon he will be home. Besides he really wants to go; he wants to prove himself again, to compensate the memories of his parents and lack of children. He would love to take care of little heroes and knows Ivan would be a wonderful parent with his sweetness and protectiveness.  
He wanted to tell that to Ivan but he didn't needs to speak of it. He knows Ivan is aware of his struggles and worse, he knows Ivan also had his paternal ones.  
He will be back soon and finally talk about that with Ivan. Perhaps they can find a way...?  
Days passed and the departing day came.  
They never wanted to voice goodbyes so they didn't. Instead they enjoyed the last nights together as young teens, lavishing each other with silly words and caresses. Touching as if memorising every inch of flesh and skin all over again and they talked about stars because it was the only topic they would agree and turn into a beautiful peaceful night.  
He knows that he will look at them and think of Ivan. He wonders if that is silly but he has the feeling that Ivan is going to do the same. Ivan took Alfred to the military headquarters. There were only a few people biding goodbyes and a couple kissing or hugging as the military clothing detached the chosen ones from civilians.  
Alfred and Ivan exchanged a few words and a too tight hug. They couldn't afford to manifest their love. The wouldn't understand. They would judge, condemn and take Alfred off his department.  
When they separated a stray hair fell on Alfred face and Ivan rearranged it with a sad smile.  
''I will miss you Alfred.'' Were the words Ivan said but Alfred knows he meant to show with them how much he loves him. He tried to do the same but he ends reassuring Ivan.  
''I will be here in a wink dude, don't fret'' Alfred laughs nervously hoping that is effort passes through and Ivan snorts making Alfred grab the lingering hand on his ear and kiss it softly.  
He will be back! He knows!

Ivan flushed and in a blink Alfred was walking to the military bus leaving Ivan gazing the blond with a dread feeling. He can't lose Alfred, he has no one else. Please don't die Alfred! A rose scent smell and aftershave filled his nose and he looked to his side with a glare.  
A smiling long-haired blond was gazing to the men walking to the military bus and he looked again to his front ignoring the blond.  
''That was your lover, non?'' The man asks in a heavy accented voice and Ivan frowns with annoyance keeping silent.  
''Don't worry, I simply noticed it.'' The man assured and Ivan looked to him with narrowed suspicious eyes. The French man smiled sadly and pointed to the men walking to the vehicle.  
Ivan kept looking at Alfred's retreating form but the French keeps talking.  
''My lover is that one, the one with the hideous green coat.'' He chuckles fondly and Ivan looks to the place the other pointed seeing another blond man entering on the bus.  
''How appropriate.'' he murmurs not wanting to follow the talk but the other kept talking. He wished he could see Alfred but he was long gone. Probably making friends with his comrades.  
''He still thinks he works for the Queen even being here… and now he leaves me like this, how cruel…'' The speaks again while. Placing a hand on his chest. Ivan looks away humming and the man finally sighs.  
If Ivan was religious he is sure he would pray on his knees every night but he is not so he will simply wait.  
Long and wait.  
''You may be a tough one Monsieur, but your eyes don't lie. I'm sure they will come back soon and alive!'' The French places a hand on his shoulders and he finds that he doesn't care about it anymore.  
He simply sighs and murmurs ''I hope so.'' The man finally leaves him with another sigh and Ivan is left alone listening the clicking of the French shoes gazing the leaving bus.  
Soon Alfred will be in another continent. Far away from him and Ivan feels terribly lonely knowing that.

.  
Alfred adapts quickly to his comrades. He was always a sociable person and it brings vantages. He is glad Ivan never tried to stop him but he is still worried. He couldn't love the other more and knows the feeling is mutual but he can't stop worrying deep down. Will he be alright alone? Will he eat properly? Will he feed their cat? OMG What if he snuggles the cat too strongly and kills him?

His mind ran miles for minute but the official orders made him come to the present. Yes, a mission. He will have his last fight and maybe they can have a kid with Ivan someday… who knows?

The first training week was quick and he made a few friends.  
A male British was the man he chose to have as a friend. He was reliable and strong even looking smaller and thinner than most. He is a good soldier and even helps him to get out of trouble sometimes. Their meeting was a strange one though.  
''Hey dude what's up?'' Alfred asked to the British man who frowned harder.  
''Bloody git! You are in army, behave like a soldier.'' He yelled making a few soldiers stare at them and laugh.  
Arthur Kirkland was the British man and the other soldiers already knew he was demanding and placed them all in order. He believed in proper soldiers. Alfred was a bit rebellious to follow orders from his peers though.  
''I am behaving like one, cant you see or are your eyebrows affecting your mind? '' Alfred asks teasingly as the man on his side looks at him in shock. Arthur hits his head and smirks.  
''You-you twat! ''  
Alfred frowns wondering why he reacted like that instead of yelling even more and ends up rolling his eyes in sarcasm.  
''Hey don't be that offended… ''  
The man frowned and glared at Alfred.  
''Only one person talks about my eyebrows and I won't have another blonde stuck with me the rest of my life!''  
Then walked away as the soldiers snickered and Alfred wondered is he is married. He never saw a ring on his fingers though.  
He looked to his empty hand and sighed. He misses Ivan. He should have bought a ring even knowing they won't marry. Suddenly the fear that Ivan meets someone else to substitute him fills him and he swallowed heavily holding back a deep sigh.  
He will kill him if he does.

Alfred calls Ivan twice a week. It's the most they can talk because they are preparing to follow orders. So they enjoy it and talk about their days while confessing with their voices and tone how much they miss each other. Not in a direct way but Alfred can hear the slight trembling on Ivan's voice. When he clicks the phone off Alfred cries silently for his lover and himself. He thought it would be easier but is not even if he enjoys his trainings and the mission they will realise. Still, knowing Ivan is sad and alone because of him breaks his heart and he misses him dearly.  
At least the cat is alright.  
.

Soldiers talk. Talking and bonding with each other is the only thing they have to distract themselves at night and dinner. Sometimes they even play cards but always speaking to take their minds of the missions and Imminent treats.  
They talk a bit about everything, about their wife's, women and girlfriends.  
Today the group gathered after dinner. Training was hard so they were all mostly resting, sitting or laying on the major tent.  
Bob was talking about his sister and his wife as the others smiled fondly thinking of their own people at home. After a laugh about fights about silly nothings he turned to Alfred with teary eyes and a soft smile. ''And you Alfred, anyone waiting for you at home?''  
Alfred looked around, he loves attention but he's private, especially about his condition.

Homosexuality is frowned upon and he knows he would lose respect among other things telling it so he smiles and pretends to talk about a woman. Better play safe, specially there.  
''Someone beautiful is waiting for me. She's sweet, gorgeous and Russian believe it or not.'' He chuckles and another man laughs.  
''Those Russian women are gorgeous, you have good taste!''  
''Yeah… I couldn't ask for more…'' Alfred flushed a bit and Bob steps in again.  
''And the sex?'' they all laugh as he flushes more with a crocked smile.  
''Best sex ever, Russians know what they are doing.'' He looked to Arthur who had a vacant look on green eyes and poked him trying to advert the conversation.

''And you?''  
Arthur looked as he was not replying for a few seconds, the look turning sharp.  
''Too much perfume, too much clothes and too much passion… It's French, so you imagine my fate.'' He complained frowning but Alfred saw the longing on green eyes and frown.  
The others snickered and laughed as Bob made his input known.  
''Nothing good about her, uh?'' Arthur shook his head and a fond smile grew on Arthur's face.

''Great hair and great in bed but a bloody pervert.'' Arthur grinned looking down and Alfred felt that something was off but didn't pressure more words from the distant man.

With time Arthur and Alfred became good friends. Arthur is protective of the blond and acted brotherly towards him. Alfred found it annoying but didn't have the heart to stop him. The proud look on the British man made it worth it.  
Soon he found that Arthur was there because of a promise he made to his older brother, he found it oddly endearing but a feeling of disappointment with himself grew on his mind.  
He realised he never asked if Ivan wanted to go back to his sisters.

Sometimes Alfred would talk with Arthur about Ivan. He always pretended to be a woman but sometimes his mouth slipped and Arthur would look at him with a paternal and confused face. Alfred always laughs it off and Arthur would not say a thing, Alfred thought he would get away with it but soon Arthur got fed up with the excuses he gave.  
In the mist of conversation he mumbles ''I miss him so much…'' and Arthur gives him a looks that makes him pale and swallow. ''My brother!'' Alfred says but Arthur shakes his head as if disappointed and Alfred thinks how he gave it all away so stupidly.  
''You were talking about Vanya, Alfred.'' Arthur's voice gives nothing away and Alfred wants to hit himself.  
Arthur takes the silence as invitation to continue and adds.  
''Vanya is a men's name or nickname isn't it?''  
Alfred can see that it holds no judgement during his almost dreadful fit and nods.  
Arthur looks at him seriously and he flinches.  
''I… please don't tell anyone…'' he adds but Arthur cuts him off folding some cloth.  
''I don't care lad…'' Arthur just smirks as if amused and he keeps worrying about his situation. If they find out...  
''If they know…. I'm not… It's just….''the tries to add in his defence and Arthur cuts him off again.  
''Just him, I understand Alfred.'' Arthur says stretching his back and he looks up with silent confusion.  
Finally the close and off look of Arthur makes sense on his head and he blinks in recognition.  
''Francis is a man?'' Alfred asks then.  
''How clever. It took time. You, Americans, are very narcissistic to know other languages…'' Arthur snorts walking out of the tent to grab something to eat but stops himself at the ''Hey!' ' Of protest of the other.  
''It's a unisex name, his birth name is François, very French and annoying.'' Arthur sighs not wanting to really talk about it and Alfred snickers.  
''You are always complaining about French people.'' He adds as Arthur flushes a bit hiding a small smile.  
''I'm British, it's in my blood to hate them.''  
''That's not a good excuse.'' Alfred pips up.  
''You are right Jones, he's the reason I hate them all.'' Arthur smirks and walks away.

Other day, intense training.  
The temperature was dry and dust filled most area but he looked over to the dense vegetation. Today he was watching out their base with some other soldiers.  
Arthur was with him though and he tried to make small conversation. Well, mostly get information of the silent man.  
''So all those things you said about 'her' were lies?'' Alfred asks with curiosity and Arthur scoffs.  
''I wish! He's a bloody narcissistic model! He uses too much things, the only manly thing about him is his after shave and his dick!''  
Alfred laughs and they fall in silence as Arthur shows a rare smile while cleaning his gun and looking at the other two a few rocks, three trees and some noise away.  
''How did you met?'' Alfred asks softly enjoying the little private moment and looking around making sure they are not overheard.  
''I was a tailor and he came to my store following an announcement for a fashion designer. He wished to stop modelling. He said it was lonely so he dedicated to fashion design. Well, he was annoying and pissed me off but he was really good so my boss contracted him and the rest is story… he's an annoying frog.'' He trailed and Alfred smiled.  
''And yet you miss him…'' Alfred pointed out and he looked sombre.  
''I even miss his bloody perverted hands… '' Arthur shook his head with a grin and Alfred laughed.  
''I miss him Al… '' Arthur admits softly after a few moments and Alfred shares a sad look with him as the other man joined them.

The following days were a run through life. Trainings were harder and the last adjustments made.  
Alfred being an optimistic and impulsive person wanted to be on the front row and was positioned there due his strength and abilities. He is good, fast, quick and effective and everyone knows it.  
The decisive moment was coming, next day was it and he couldn't help feel nervous. Proud of helping his country while helping another and yet apprehensive.  
On that night he got the chance to talk to Ivan. Ivan didn't know he was going to be in mission and he didn't dare to disobey direct orders of secrecy.  
Besides he will be soon with Ivan and hit him for caring too much. It will be fine.  
''Baby, I'll be home soon, don't worry and I made a friend, you got to know him.'' Alfred grinned to the silent Russian on the other side of the phone and felt his heart sink a little at the lack of response.  
Then, after a few silent and awkward seconds Ivan spoke.  
''Alfred.'' Is the only word he says and he can feel the worry creeping on his heart.  
''What's wrong?''  
''Why did you start our conversation talking about that man?'' Alfred made a confused face thinking about what he meant with that and could almost see how the Russian was twisting his fingers in the long scarf while holding the phone with one hand. Nervous, anxious, insecure because of him.  
''I was only telling you how I found a cool friend here… he's like us and is a great help…'' he murmured looking to the door wishing for a better place to talk with his lover but knowing he didn't afford the luxury of that. He was afraid of someone overhearing him on the phone and couldn't help feel a trapped.  
''Are you cheating on me with him?'' Ivan steady collected voice asks after another long second and Alfred mouth opens gaping.  
''What?'' He feels offended by such a question, how can Ivan think that about him? How can he even say a word about such idiotic assumption?  
He is unable to reply and Ivan sounds slightly hysterical beneath the aparently composed voice.  
''He's there isn't him? He's your friend and you talk every day with him… and I'm here alone waiting for you… it makes sense…'' Alfred shakes his head, impulsively whispering harshly to the phone.  
''You are an ass! You know what we talk about? We talk about you and his boyfriend… I can't believe you thought that I… shit… '' Alfred said irritated as he silences himself looking at the door, again. No one can listen to him, specially now that he is deep into the mission.  
As he was about to talk again he hears soft silent sobs. His heart breaks and he feels the despair on the other side. He feels his own wanting to come to surface.  
''Baby? Are you ok?'' He asks softly and Ivan mumbles, almost incoherently.  
''Sunflower, I… come back… promise you'll come back to me…'' he demands as Alfred smiles sadly feeling tears prickling his blue eyes.  
''Of course, my love. When I get back I have something important to ask you… So just wait 'kay?'' Alfred says as the door is knocked and a man peeks inside to tell him his time is off.  
''Fredka…'' Ivan asks and Alfred swallows heavily. Angry at the interruption and the fact he couldn't bid goodbye as he wished.  
''I got to go now… love ya!'' He says and clicks the phone shit walking away with heavy steps and a hard uncharacteristic frown on his face.

That night he couldn't even speak to Arthur afraid of talking about Ivan again. He needs to be strong for both and he knows if he can't back down now. He will be a hero to himself and Ivan.

.X.  
It has been two days since Ivan had talked to Alfred.  
Two days, 13 hours and some minutes and still no news from Alfred.  
He knows he will call when he gets the time but he can't help feel worried.  
His whole body feels exhausted. His mind nervous and preoccupied but he tells himself that Alfred is too tough to let something as tiny as a little mission to break him. He would kill before get killed. He's tough as a weed.  
It was a long day on the shop. Far worse than all the days he has been through since Alfred went to Iraq for some reason. His apron dirtied from dirt and smashed flowers because with his mind so far away things simply got smashed. He feels clumsy and blames it on his big trembling hands which don't obey him.  
Not that long ago he was with his Alfred. Now he can't help feel the overwhelming response to loneliness.  
He was wondering how long before the news pass on the radio when the music vanished and a male radio voice announced:

'The United States of America invaded Iraq with success. There were 139 causalities on the American side. We could say it was somewhat a guaranteed victory.'

The announcer says with such a cheery voice that Ivan's breathing hitches and catches on his throat. Causalities? 139 soldiers? Oh God, Is Alfred one of them? He is not for sure!

He closes the florist an hour before the normal closing time and walks home to be on the phone side. He would not leave it until Alfred calls him. He knows he will call him gloating about their victory.  
.X.

The cheers of the soldiers filed with bittersweet victory as the causalities where counted and names were said. So soon and they had already most of the losses named.  
Just a few days. They are not even rested and they keep celebrating.  
Arthur Kirkland didn't want to celebrate. No one wins when so many people die. And they care to say it was just those people! He stands on Bob Stiller's side, his comrade and aid on the field, the celebration dies to give space to the sombre moment that followed.  
The moments of silence for their fellow brothers in arms.  
Arthur green eyes were reddish and a clench of teeth showed his sadness. Bob simply bowed listening names. Causalities, deaths.

'Arthur Bullock, Alfred Jones, Alexander Nic-'

The names kept sounding and on the end the cheered victory didn't sound as one to no one on that moment.  
As soon as it finished he started walking away and Bob stopped him.  
''Will you call his brother and girl?''

'''I don't have his number…'' Arthur murmured and bob frowned.

''And the-?''  
''I don't have the number! They won't give us because they want to pay respects… Oh bloody hell! The poor man will be the last to know…'' Arthur grabbed his hair in frustration and closed his eyes in attempt of calming down but it was useless.  
Bob looked at him confused and tried to treasure him with kind words.  
''I am sure his brother will be the first to know Arthur...''  
''Sod off!'' Arthur yelled and walked away murmuring to himself angrily. He couldn't deal with this right know. What if it was him? What if that happened to Francis and he stood waiting for him endlessly?  
''Won't you call your lady?'' Bob called and he yelled back.  
''Later… the frog will understand…'' Bob made a confused face that soon became a bit suspicious albeit not so judgemental as they would think.

Three days.  
Five since he lastly talked to Alfred.

Three awfully terrific days ince the radio news and not a single call.  
Ivan couldn't sleep and barely ate. He needed to be on guard in case Alfred called him. Alfred or someone. Anyone with some news.  
Feliciano, Alfred's friend, went to his florist to cheer him up but nothing could do the trick. Even Ludwig and Gilbert brought beer but he politely refused and kept saying that he only drank vodka. Mostly true but he couldn't really stay away from the phone.  
He wanted to stay at home but he went to the shop just to water the flowers not wanting them to whither.  
He got home at 10am, later than he expected, and at 10:15 a ring sounded on the door and he almost ran to it.  
Alfred!

He was expecting a loud blonde, who certainly would be hit for the pain he caused by not calling, but it was a quiet long-haired blond he saw. Not Alfred.  
Alfred's brother, Matthew.

The face was so similar to his lover's that he wanted to punch him. Or kiss him he was not sure but was pissed enough to punch him but the red eyes behind glasses made him stop and freeze in place shivering. No.

''Ivan…'' the quiet blond started and he shook his head refusing even to listen to him. No. Why is he here? Is that a cruel joke? His mind quickly provided and he kept shaking his head.

''No!'' He said at last, words so heavy he was not sure how they came out from his mouth.

''Please listen to me, Alfred-'' Matthew tried to say but Ivan cut him off.

''No! Stop, don't you dare!'' Ivan demands in a dark tone that made the blond start tearing and clench his chest with one hand.  
Ivan's mind yelling that it was a dream and his heart breaking at the tear filled face of his lovers brother.

''Alfred is dead….'' He finally said as quickly as he could and Ivan looked at him as if he was hurting him physically with a bat. He wished he was doing it instead of voicing those words.

''No… No… Nyet! He can't…'' his voice cracked and he started to cry freely. Soundly and choking on his own breath. No… he couldn't do that! He promised to come back! He always fulfils his promises.  
Matthew ignored the denial . Grabbed a little bag on the ground and took a flag with Alfred beloved gun giving it to Ivan who was still shivering and shaking his head. 'No. No. Alfred.' He almost says but no voice comes out from his gaping mouth.  
''He would want you to have this… I may not understand but, he, he really loved you.'' The blond stepped to him placing the folded American flag and dark gun on his shaking arms. Ivan imediatly dropped it on the ground as if burnt and shoved Matthew outside the entrance of the house.  
'No!' he yells voice cracking as Matthew cries harder and the door bumps his feel.  
''Go away! He will come back to me.'' Ivan yells kneeling on the ground crying above the not so folded flag and gun. Matthew placed a hand on the door crying for his brother and the broken man on the other side of the door.

Two days passed.  
Ivan hasn't left the house as he held a framed picture that showed Alfred on his most beautiful moment. Both were there but Alfred looked so happy and beautiful that he framed it and kept it near the sofa to look at it when he was far.  
He couldn't just leave the house, what if Alfred comes back with his idiotic smile telling him it was all a prank? Ivan's heart is broken. He needs Alfred to come to him and help him fix it all over again.  
His mind exhausted and his eyes had no more tears but he kept looking at the phone.  
Not even his numb body or pounding headache would detach him from that place. He knows that he will receive a call from the Army, his Alfred. Oh God, his Alfred will come back. He must come back.  
He hopes that he comes back.

He ignored the yelling of an annoyed declared Prussian on his door, the crying of an Italian and the commanding voice of a German. Alfred's friends. Matthew also pounded on the door, albeit more quietly than the others, a few more times. He didn't even move from the couch where the flag and gun rested on his side. He didn't even acknowledged their presence.

On the fifth day he walked slowly, tiredly to his florist. He remembered to water the flowers.  
Yet when he opened the door a morbid rotting smell filled his nose,

The flowers were dying.

Just like himself they looked death.  
His beloved Sunflowers were poetically wilted. The sunny petals that reminded him of his lover hair were brownish and mushy. He cringed his nose and looked to the other side avoiding that disgraceful sight.  
On the other side were the poor lilies. They were so sad and in need that he didn't have the courage of not giving them water before cutting them from their roots to putt them on the mini sanctuary that Alfred had on the living room. Dust filled the sanctuary and he regrets not having taking care of it for him. He should have done it, Alfred would like that.

The roses kept glowing in a red vibrant colour and their smell almost covered the wilted musk of many flower yet some were dry.  
Red roses, Alfred's favourite. If he was not there to buy one or even look at them and appreciate the effort Ivan made on them they should not be so wondrous.  
He grabbed them and crushed them all on his bare hands.

The thorns cut his hands that for once were not protected by dark gloves and the red petals cried falling on the ground smashed.

He looked around. He hates everything about that place. The place where they met, where they developed a great friendship and soon became lovers. The place he created to live. The place where Alfred made its way to his life and filled it with joy.  
He hated it!  
He closed the store cursing it and ignored the pain twist his stomach gave.  
He had nothing to live now. Nothing to love.

No flowers, No Alfred. Nothing.  
No Alfred...

For once, in five days, he decided to eat but he was not hungry and suddenly he was very thirsty.  
He bought too many bottles of Vodka ignoring the surprised look of the cashier.

He knew he looked awful. Dark bags under his eyes, his hair dirty and unsettled and even his clothes wrinkled and dirtied. Dirt, smashed petals and bloodied marks on them. He neglected for completely the numb pain on his hands. Thorns were still there. His eyes… His eyes were so tired that he was sure the purple became cloudy.

He couldn't care less.

When he got home there was a message on the phone and he clicked to hear it. It was somewhat surprising. It made him feel even guiltier from their last talk.

''Hello'' a heavily accented voiced started and he frowned.

''My name is Arthur Kirkland. I am saddened to call you in these circumstances but truly felt the need to call you at least once so I searched your contact. It seems my lover knows Alfred brother and so it was easier than I though. I am afraid this is not what I wanted to say, I simply wanted to ask you forgiveness for not having called you first. You see, they don't give us the numbers but Alfred would want you to be the first to know. ''

A heavy silence followed. Ivan realised this must be the man he was jealous off. Why is he calling? Why can't they leave him alone for once? Is he with Alfred? Is Alfred okay?

''He talked quite much about you. He missed you dearly and, I am sure you know it, he loved you dearly. More than any person can love another. '' he started sniffing and tears came to Ivan eyes. No... Alfred wouldn't do that to him... Alfred was not here anymore... And the process of accepting that truth made him bitter .  
''I have also a lover and understand how much you must be suffering but let me tell you that he wouldn't like that. He was strong-willed and I am sure you know he wanted your happiness more that everything. I… I apologise for intruding but I really needed to tell you this. The last thing he wanted you to be was miserable because of him. Thank you for listening. Goodbye Sir.''

The click sounded and an annoying bip bip bip followed.

Ivan drank a whole bottle of Vodka and finally found more tears to cry. His Alfred surely could melt anyone. He was truly amazing and kind. And he was such an ass to him. Pushy, clingy, always demanding Alfred's attention...

He thought drinking would easy his pain but the only thing he could think was how Alfred touched his heart. How he took him from a lonely life and brought him life and happiness.

His eyes stung and burnt. His hands filled with thorns that would be infected if he hadn't let Vodka fall on them in his drunken stupor. Lastly his breathing came heavy and painful.

The gun shone with the glint that came from the morning sun on the covered window and he took a look at it. It was a semi automatic pistol, with the Calibre 45 mostly known as M1911A1. Alfred's precious friend from the Cold War and the beloved gun he took to the Vietnam.

He opened the cartridge, saw that it still had 3 bullets and closed it disconnecting the safety-pin gazing the gun lazily.

He has nothing to do here.  
He never had... He. Never truly had Alfred.  
His country more important as their life together and why? Because Ivan was boring and couldn't give Alfred what he deserved...  
He felt guilty, ashamed and so, so sorry.  
His sisters were so far apart and probably happily married. They even tried to talk to him anymore.  
His florist was destroyed and he hated it for everything it reminded him and his lover was dead. Dead…

He left and died. Why would hero such a cruel thing to him? Was he not enough?  
Of course not. Alfred was so amazing and precious he would never be enough to him. Not even if he's dead.  
Dead... No... He died and took his heart with him leaving him cold, empty and alone.  
Why would hero that to someone who adored him so deeply. Someone who treated him as some deity. Someone who loved him more that life itself?  
Alfred. Come back...

He forced his heavy arm up and took a firm grip on the gun as she rested on his temple.

How funny. It feels somewhat peaceful. A strange rush in the blood and the same painful nauseating feeling he used to have before Alfred came and saved him.  
This time he was sure the nauseating feeling was due the vodka because his mind felt calm and at ease for once in months.

With a last look on the framed picture that showed both laughing, Alfred's vibrant blue eyes glowing behind glasses and blond hair with a stubborn cowlick defying gravity, making Ivan smile softly.

He pulls the trigger.

If Alfred doesn't come back he will go to him.

.

Notes: This is inspirited on the year of 2002 when the USA invaded the Iraq. 139 American soldiers died on this same mission of Vietnam war.

Alfred is one of them but it's purely fictional (with all respect for the real victims of course).

Name changed and I am tired of editing this so forgive me for mistakes. I really need to take a break and will post on ao3 from now on.

I also apologise to delete and post this again but I wanted to leave this account and this was a story voted on poll so had to be here.

I truly apologise for deleting some stories but I will edit them too. Not posting here anymore so goodbye dearests.

Thank you for all the support.


End file.
